We Don't Mean To

(I'm in a retreat and unable to post, so here is another entry that seems to bear repeating...)

We don't wake up in the morning and say to ourselves, “Today, I'm going to be selfish and inconsiderate. I’m going to ignore the feelings of others.” We don't consciously make the decision to do this. And yet throughout the day, we act selfishly in so many ways.

We don’t write that letter to a friend, even though we know he is looking forward to hearing from us. We again postpone that trip to the library to return that best-seller that we took out, even though we know someone is probably waiting to read it. We go shopping with one friend forgetting that we had already told another we’d go with her.

Neither do we wake up and say “Today is the day I'm going to make someone suffer.” And yet that’s what we do—cause pain.

We don't turn the heat down because we'd be uncomfortable if our home was colder.  So we contribute to global warming and people in Bangladesh who never used a light bulb are told their land is being eroded due to planetary warming from carbon emissions. We don’t visit our friend in the nursing home because we’re busy, and so our friend is alone and feel forgotten.

We get trapped by our habits, our personal inertia, and our wish for comfort.

We don’t mean to be selfish or unkind. But too often, we are.

Excuse Me, Your Name is ?

Question: Is your name spelled Wu Lin or Wu Ling?

Response: Okay, you'd think this was an easy one to answer. I mean, clearly this is an "a" or "b" type question. Right?

Would it were so.

Actually, it's a long story. You could say it began about 2000 years.

From Changing Destiny:

In the past, Chinese people might have three sets of names [in addition to their surname]: a given name, courtesy name, and sobriquet. Their given name that was given to them by their parents expressed the parent’s aspirations for their children. Changing this name was tantamount to ignoring this aspiration, truly an unfilial act.

Upon reaching adulthood, age twenty for males and sixteen for females, people were no longer addressed by the given name for to do so was disrespectful. At this time, they underwent a ceremony to be initiated into adulthood. During this ceremony, people of the same generation or older like siblings, schoolmates, and friends, would provide the courtesy name that would be used for the rest of their lives.

. . . Only one’s parents and teacher would use a person's given name after they reached adulthood; even grandparents, uncles, and emperors used the courtesy name. Thus, society accorded the same gratitude and respect to teachers as it did to parents.

In this spirit of different names to be used by different people, Buddhists monastics in China received two sets of names. When I and my brothers (both monks and nuns) were tonsured by our Teacher, Ven. Master Chin Kung, he gave each of us our two sets of names. The names that people know us by all begin with "Wu."

Okay, now let's look again at one sentence from Changing Destiny:

Only one’s parents and teacher would use a person's given name after they reached adulthood. . . .

Since one's Teacher gives one the name, in my case Wu Ling, only my Teacher can call me by that name. Not even my brothers can use it. They say Wu Ling shi, essentially Brother Wu Ling. (In case you're thinking here, well then her name is "Wu Ling! What's with the long explanation?" please bear with me as we leave China and move to the West.)

First, Lin or Ling? Actually, that has less to do with East or West and more with spelling. It should have been spelled Lin. But somehow it ended up being spelled Ling. After getting used to Ling, while living in Singapore I learned it should have been Lin. Oops.

So for a while I used "Lin." But apparently, I had become attached to Ling. (Oops, again,) So I changed it back to Ling.

A few years later, I began to spend more time in the US again. This became a problem because in Singapore, people know not to address a Buddhist monastic as "Wu Ling" but as Venerable Wu Ling, etc.  In the west, naturally people didn't know this. They were understandable happy and relieved to remember my name, much less get into all the proper protocol of addressing me. (Or proper pronunciation. It's natural for westerners to pronounce Wu as "woo" not "oo")

So people called me "Wu." :-) Or more formally, Ms. Ling.

Clearly, these nice people needed some assistance.

So I went with the pinyin convention of combining the two names into one: Wuling.

Then I started signing my name as Venerable Wuling to help people know how to say hello without my wincing over being addressed as only my teacher should address me. Also, this would help people know how to address other monastics. If I winced at "Wuling," they must have really winced at "Wu ..."

So, bottom line, I spell it "Wuling."

To Change Our Life

Each one of us,

regardless of our circumstances,

has the abilty to change.

We can change how we think and what we think about.

We can change what and how we speak.

We can change how we behave.

Doing so,

we will change our lives.

As Uncomprehending As Children

Question: When we asked what you had to say about the disaster in Haiti, you reminded us of the principles of Karma. All the people who are affected by this tragedy are experiencing the result of their own actions, perhaps from another lifetime. This is difficult for me to understand. For one thing - if they are getting what they deserve - how does compassion enter the picture? Wouldn't it be easy to see people in trouble and dismiss them because it's their own fault?

Response: Throughout our innumerable lifetimes, not knowing about or not truly understanding the natural law of causality, we have thought and acted without considering the consequences. We were ignorant. And we still are. 

We were, and are, like children who act impulsively without thinking about what could happen.

Just as we feel compassion for the child who burns his hand on the stove or who hurts herself falling out of a tree, we feel compassion for those who bring suffering upon themselves through their own actions. They were ignorant. Just like us.

To understand that suffering is brought about by one's actions allows us to learn from the situation. It also gives us the opportunity to deepen our compassion through the practice of the giving of wealth (time and effort not just money) and fearlessness.

To dismiss that suffering as the person's own fault is to be judgmental, not compassionate.

No matter how big or old the other person, they are actually children when it comes to realizing the pervasiveness of causality.

Just like us.

Non-attachment not Detachment

(Some entries bear repeating. . . )

Question: I was talking to a friend and she told me "she tried" Buddhism but the following was her reason for not pursuing it further: "I don't think that it is a good thing to detach from the body and all emotions.  I believe that passion and emotions are part of the best part of being human.  So... pure detachment leaves me feeling un-human."

Response: I imagine "pure detachment" would leave any reasonable person feeling un-human. But Buddhism does not teach pure detachment.

In Buddhism, the opposite of attachment is not detachment but rather non-attachment. Detachment is unresponsive and removed from emotions. Non-attachment allows us to feel the emotions but not become trapped by them.  When we are non-attached, we still care but we no longer discriminate, feeling love for this person and aversion for another. When we practice non-attachment, we are letting go of worries and expectations. We are fully engaged in what we do, but we realize the act of doing is all we control. As Master Kuang-ch'in said, "Non-attachment does not mean indifference or carelessness, but rather you should do your best and not worry about the results."

Neither do we "detach from the body." We wisely realize it is not permanent and that it is not our true self. It is a temporary dwelling for this lifetime. But we still need to take care of it and treat it with respect as we try to find the balance between hedonism and asceticism. 

Those I know who excel at non-attachment are some of the most engaged, hard-working, and cheerful people I know. Practicing as the Buddha taught, they are a joy to be around. Just thinking of them makes me smile.